The Writing Zone

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I have about as much interest in writing today as my dog has in going out to find new fleas.

Don’t get me wrong. I love to write. There are few places better in the world than The Writing Zone. I try to spend as much time there as possible. It’s my Happy Place.

But getting into The Writing Zone can be pure torture. Especially since it has a roadblock the size of Mount Rainier and guards. Not normal guards either. These are mean, crotchety, and excessively hateful. They don’t take breaks, but they do take great pleasure in keeping me out of The Zone.

I’m persistent, so I usually manage to get past the beasts. Sometimes I tiptoe past, and other times I borrow a steamroller and plow my way through. It depends on my mood.

But I long for the Easy Entry Days when I skip right past the barricade and frolic for hours in blissful writing.

There’s nothing like being in the zone of getting into The Zone.

New year, new beginning

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This year is gonna be GOOD!

A new family member, a new book, and many new adventures.

Last year was a rather icky year, for me at least. For the first time EVER, I was scammed out of money. Not something I want to admit, but there it is.

It all started because my book sales were steady, but on the low side. As much as I believed in the books, I simply didn’t know how to get them noticed. So I decided to hire a marketer. Someone who knew how to place the books in the public eye.  Make them more visible, easier to discover.

Me being me, I took several months to research marketing companies. The expensive ones were knocked out right away. I knew I would need to spend money, but my budget was rather limited. So I finally settled on a mid-range priced company that ‘guaranteed satisfaction or your money back’.

In March, after several email exchanges and a couple of phone calls, I signed up and paid for six months of marketing. I was told that the first thing I needed to do was move my website from Blogger to Word Press, because Blogger would not be able to handle the traffic.

So I moved my site. It took about a month and was much messier than I thought it would be. I did not enjoy it and the immediate result was that the number of hits to my site plummeted. Dramatically.

As did my sales. All of a sudden no one was buying my books.

I contacted the marketer and was assured the drop in sales was temporary. She had set up a campaign that would put my books in front of the very people who were sure to be interested in them. But the timing was not yet right. The campaign couldn’t start until September.

I checked in with her several times over the summer and was assured everything was good to go.

In September I sent an email asking if I needed to do anything else. I got no response. I waited a week and sent another email. Still nothing. A week later I sent a third one, and this one came back undeliverable.

So I went to the website. It was gone. Over the next two months I must have looked for the website a hundred times and sent numerous emails.

The company had closed up shop and vanished. It was gone, and so was my money.

Satisfaction guaranteed or your money back. Right.

Icky. Very icky.

Time to shake it off and move on. New year, new beginning.

I plan to do everything I can to make it a fantastic one! Which includes letting go of past mistakes so I can focus on the future.

Forward! Ever forward!

 

The house dream returns

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I had the house dream last night.

I’ve had it for as long as I can remember. I dream of finding a hidden door in a house that leads to all kinds of interesting things. No two dreams are the same.

When I was a child I usually dreamed of my grandmother’s house. I’d be playing hide-and-seek with my sister and stumble across a cabinet I’d never noticed before. I’d open it and find a secret passage to a dusty, unused part of the house that contained all kinds of treasure.

The dream made sense at the time. My grandmother’s house was huge. So huge that it was too much for her to handle when she got older, so she partitioned a small apartment for herself and sold the rest of the house to a family.

I assumed the dreams were my brain’s way of exploring the part of the house that was unavailable to me.

As an adult I dream of my own house. No dust, just cool hidden spaces. Very big, very elaborate spaces. In one dream I even found an entire circus, complete with cotton candy, elephants, and a Ferris Wheel.

The epiphany hit when I realized the dreams had meaning. They were telling me to work harder, to dig deeper, to explore those hidden recesses of imagination I needed to tap into to make my writing better.

I need to really think through last night’s dream. I haven’t had the house dream in years.

What is it my brain is trying to tell me? What am I missing? What do I need to find?

Update: There was a part of last night’s dream that was disturbing. It had to do not with my current house, but one I owned in the past. I described it to my daughter in detail.

She believes the dream is telling me to look forward, not back.

I like that. I’m going with it.

 

Election 2016 – being unfriended

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“I’m a fervent feminist and a Republican. I remember the mess the Clintons made of the White House, scandal after scandal after scandal. I dreaded going through that again. So I’m happy!
BTW-I’m an educated urban woman.”

I wrote that on my private Facebook page yesterday. I had read multiple posts where people stated they were afraid, heart-broken, or disappointed by the election results.

But my candidate had won! I was happy, and wanted to share that happiness with others.

I didn’t want my friends to be sad, scared, or disappointed. I wanted them to know it was going to be okay. The nastiness of the campaign could be washed away and we could come together to move our country forward.

It’s what we do. We are Americans. Our strength is in our constitutional democracy. We listen to the opposition, talk things out, then shake hands and go about our business.

Or at least, that’s what we’re supposed to do. Based on the riots last night, someone forgot to pay attention in civics class.

Sometimes your candidate wins, sometimes your candidate loses. You can’t throw a tantrum every time things don’t go your way. And that’s what those riots were, tantrums.

I disagree with President Obama’s politics and don’t like the direction he’s taken our country. I did not vote for him. Either time. But I accepted him as my President. I have given him the respect he deserves as President. The respect every President deserves.

I certainly never harassed any of his supporters on Facebook, like I got harassed yesterday.

So let me clarify.

I am not an intolerant, anti-woman, homophobic, anti-immigrant, racist who doesn’t have enough brains to think for herself. I watched all the debates (including the primaries and the vice presidential debate). I watched interviews. I watched the body language of the candidates. And I listened. Really listened.

My decision was an informed one. I voted for the candidate I felt was best for the United States. And no, I don’t believe the hype that Donald Trump is an intolerant, anti-woman, homophobic, anti-immigrant, racist.

You can believe what you want, and say what you want. That is your right. It is also your right to unfriend me, which several have done.

But I also have rights. My words are just as important as yours, so stop trying to shut me up!

I guess Tolerant Seattle isn’t so tolerant after all.

 

Election night 2016 – interesting

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This election has been an interesting experience. (Notice I said interesting, not good. I detest the mud-slinging which seems inevitable in our election system. So much of the stuff flies around that by the time we cast our votes, we can barely remember what our candidates look like.)

My plan was to take a break from politics until morning. That way all I’d have to do was turn on the television – after all the counting and speculation was done – and find out who won. No stress, no mess.

But hubby-bubby had a different plan. He loves spectator sports, and there was no way he was going to miss this one. (It was only later that I remembered his political science degree.)

“Humor me,” he said, “it only happens once every four years.”

So we watched it like a football game. Kind of.

We flipped through the channels so we could get a broader prospective. And as the night wore on and results rolled in, something interesting began to happen. The biases some of the journalists became glaringly apparent.

So much for my belief that reporters could remain objective while on the job. I guess I forgot they were, after all, just people.

Still, I was shocked when a large number of them, on several different networks, slid into mourning as the results poured in.

Caught on camera, reporters proving they are, after all, just people.

Like I said, interesting.

Fake spooky

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Last Halloween I wanted to go all out on decorations for my new house so I hired a crew of spiders and ghosts to make it as spooky as possible. They did a great job.

Maybe too great. Not a single trick-or-treater came to my door.
I sat there all night with a bowl of candy, waiting, and waiting.

It was sad.

So this year I fired the spiders and ghosts and, with the help of two little goblins, took charge of decorations myself. I must say, I was pleased with the results. It was simple, yet satisfying.

fireplace

window

The trick-or-treaters must have thought so too, ’cause I gave out most of my candy.

Who knew? Authentic isn’t always the best.

A foot in two worlds

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I finished a huge rewrite of my newest book yesterday. It was tougher than usual, and at times I truly felt I’d never get it done.

But I did. And now, before I’ve even had the chance to catch my breath, the next project, a screenplay, is begging for me to get started.

These stories are tough bosses. Each and every one of them feels they need to be WRITTEN, and NOW!

No patience. No patience at all.

What the screenplay doesn’t realize is that for the last several months I’ve had a foot in two worlds. The real one I share with my family and neighbors, and the imagined one where the story and characters live.

In order to step into a new world, the world I’ll create for the screenplay, I’ve got to retrieve that foot.

It could take several days. I got in pretty deep with the rewrite. Which is probably why that world is hanging on to my foot tighter than Scrooge to a penny.

But I’ll get my foot back. I always do.

I hope I don’t lose my shoe.

52 Films Directed by Women

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Here are the #52FilmsByWomen I watched.

52. Big (1988) directed by Penny Marshall
51. Suffragette (2015) directed by Sarah Gavron
50. Shrek (2001) directed by Vicky Jenson
49. The Intern (2015) directed by Nancy Meyers
48. Sleepless in Seattle (1993) directed by Nora Ephron
47. CodeGirl (2015) directed by Lesley Chilcott
46. Big Stone Gap (2014) directed by  Adriana Trigiani
45. From Fat to Finish Line (2015) directed by Angela Lee
44. The Babadook (2014) directed by  Jennifer Kent
43. Dial a Prayer (2015) directed by Maggie Kiley
42. A Conversation With Gregory Peck (1999) directed by Barbara Kopple
41. Hateship Loveship (2013) directed by Liza Johnson
40. If I Were You (2012) directed by Joan Carr-Wiggin
39. The Last Time You Had Fun (2014) directed by Mo Perkins
38. The Nanny Diaries (2007) directed by  Shari Springer Berman
37. Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry (2012) directed by Alison Klayman
36. Paradise (2013) directed by Diablo Cody
35. Touchy Feely (2013) directed by Lynn Shelton
34. Bewitched (2005) directed by Nora Ephron
33. Being Elmo: A Puppeteer’s Journey (2011) directed by Constance Marks
32. Honeymoon (2014) directed by Leigh Janiak
31. A Little Bit of Heaven (2011) directed by Nicole Kassell
30. Black Sheep (1996) directed by Penelope Spheeris
29. Arranged (2007) directed by  Diane Crespo
28. Deep Impact (1998) directed by Mimi Leder
27. The Road Within (2014) directed by Gren Wells
26. Knockout (2011) directed by Anne Wheeler
25. Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work (2010) directed by Ricki Stern and Anne Sundberg
24. Me and You and Everyone We Know (2005) directed  by Miranda July
23. Somewhere (2010) directed by Sofia Coppola
22. Crossroads (2002) directed by Tamra Davis
21. Tiny Furniture (2010) directed by Lena Dunham
20. The Decoy Bride (2011) directed by Sheree Folkson
19. The Proposal (2009) directed by Anne Fletcher
18. Ride (2015) directed by Helen Hunt
17. Race to Nowhere (2010) directed by Vicki Abeles and  Jessica Congdon
16. The Prince and Me (2004) directed by Martha Coolidge
15. What Women Want (2000) directed by Nancy Meyers
14. Pitch Perfect 2 (2015) directed by Elizabeth Banks
13. The Last Keepers (2013) directed by Maggie Greenwald
12. The Hot Flashes (2013) directed by Susan Sideman
11. Lucky Them (2013) directed by Megan Griffiths
10. I Will Follow (2010) directed by Ava DuVernay
9. She’s Beautiful When She’s Angry (2014) directed by Mary Dore
8. Clueless (1995) directed by Amy Heckerling
7. The Pirate Fairy (2014) directed by Peggy Holmes
6. Sexy Baby (2012) directed by  Jill Bauer and  Ronna Gradus
5. Can’t Hardly Wait (1998) directed by Deborah Kaplan
4. Seeking a Friend for the End of the World (2012) directed by Lorene Scafaria
3. Aeon Flux (2005) directed by  Karyn Kusama
2. Fed Up (2014) directed by Stephanie Soechtig
1. Frenemies (2012) directed by Daisy von Scherler Mayer

SHORTS

  1. The Cabbage Fairy (1896) directed by Alice Guy-Blaché

It was a fun experience. It got me to watch several films that I might have missed if I hadn’t been a part of this challenge.

I’m very glad I watched each and every one of these films.

This list is by no means exhaustive. There are a lot more great films directed by woman out there.

And I plan to watch as many of them as I can find.

Twenty-five pages

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Twenty-five pages. That’s it.
Only twenty-five pages stands between me and the birth of my next novel.

It’s been an excruciatingly painful process. I often felt I’d never get to the end of this grueling, horrid, seemingly never-ending rewrite.

Why this particular rewrite took so darn long I’ll probably never know. Usually I breeze through, with only the occasional sticky bit to slow me down.

But this rewrite had me drowning in a sea of molasses. If it weren’t for those rare islands of clarity, dotted about here or there, I’m not sure I could have made it through.

Oh, well.

Unless something catastrophic happens, like a cold, I’ll have it done in two weeks or less.

Then off to the editor it will go.

Or maybe I should hang on to it for a month or so before I send it off.

Time to bask in the warm glow of the look-what-I-accomplished feeling sounds mighty appealing right now. Once I get the manuscript back, all marked up with needed changes, that lovely glow dims a bit.

But no need to worry about that yet. I’ve still got twenty-five pages of rewrites to do, which gives me twenty-five pages to make that decision.

Ta-ta for now!